


Never Meant

by amorekay



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 1930s, Family, Gen, Pre-Canon, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-20
Updated: 2011-09-20
Packaged: 2017-10-23 21:43:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorekay/pseuds/amorekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eugene gets thrown in jail at fifteen, or at least as much of a jail as a house can be with masking tape on the window cracks and water stains down every wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Meant

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the knowledge that the cajun population at the time was quite discriminated against. Pre-war Roe!ficlet.

Eugene gets thrown in jail at fifteen, or at least as much of a jail as a house can be with masking tape on the window cracks and water stains down every wall. It smells like mildew and lady’s perfume, the heavy kind that the old ladies who come to wish his mother good luck and then whisper about her from the other side of the room wear. He sits on the couch and waits, nerves still thrumming and his body coiled tight, ready to run.

When the door bangs open, it’s his uncle standing next to his jailer, his brow furrowed. She grabs Gene by the arm and hauls him up, her nails biting into his skin. “This boy,” she tells his uncle, shaking Gene, “This is the third time-”

“ _Yes, yes_ ,” his uncle says, slipping into French. “ _I will fix him._ ”

“ _Good._ ” she says. She hands Gene off to his uncle, and snorts in disgust. " _How,_ " she starts, " _are we ever going to prove we are decent people with the children like this?_ "

Gene’s uncle waves her off and reassures her, again, that he will take care of the problem. When the front door closes behind them and Gene’s left to scuff his shoes against the porch, his uncle sighs.

“Gene,” he says, softly. “Again?”

Gene says, “I didn’t mean to.” His cheek is aching, now that the thrumming in his blood has tapered off to a quiet hum.

“Ah, Gene,” his uncle continues. “Your temper is as bad as your mother’s.”

At the house, his sisters are outside, the youngest still content to chase frogs through the weeds while Isabel hangs laundry. Lucie makes a disapproving noise when she sees him coming up the path with their uncle, and then laughs. “ _In trouble_ , Gene?”

“Go tell your mother,” his uncle says, and gestures up the front porch. Gene ducks his head, and walks up to the house with measured steps, his oldest sister raising an eyebrow at him as she folds another sheet over the line. Lucie has paused in her laughing and gathered up the little one, telling her to go greet their uncle.

“Ma,” Gene says, slipping behind the door and into the cool darkness of the house. She's standing by the window, and the curtain slips from her hand as she turns to look at him. "Gene," she says. "Isaac brought you home?"

He hangs his head and she steps toward him, the understanding on her face shameful enough to make him fight back a prickle of tears.

When she touches his hand he winces, and she draws it up to the light and thumbs over the raw skin on his knuckles. “Again?” she asks. There’s a drop of sorrow behind the word, and Gene unravels under her scrutiny.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t help what they was saying about-”

" _Hush,_ " she replies. " _You have pride, we all have pride, it runs in our blood. But your pride must be kept close to your heart, to keep your head high, not,_ ” she touches his fist, " _here, lashing out._ "

Gene says, " _I don’t like to be violent._ " and, " _No,_ " his mother replies, closing her hands around his and drawing them close to her heart. " _Your hands were not meant for this._ "


End file.
